Page 38 of The Emerson Effect
“Okay,” she says in a low voice, then louder, she adds, “And Emerson?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know if I’ve said it before, but thank you for this. All of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say. “I’m benefiting from it, too.”
“But you’ve been doing all the work,” she argues.
“And I’ve been reaping most of the rewards. Once we reveal who you are, and you can start participating and posting content around our romance, we’ll be even.”
Twila shakes her head. “I still owe you. You could’ve picked anyone for this, and you picked me. So, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, and thankyoufor agreeing to my crazy plan,” I say finally, and she graces me with a sweet smile.
“Not so crazy,” she says. “Bye, Emerson.”
I tell her goodbye and end the call, but I can’t stop thinking about her words. It only occurred to me once that I could pick someone else for this scheme, and I immediately discarded the idea. I only wanted Twila, and I definitely wouldn’t have shifted to another user if she’d said no.
So, what, exactly, does that mean?
TWENTY-ONE
Twila
Emerson posted the video with the screenshot of our conversation last night, and just like the last one, it went nuts…and is still going strong. I’m happy for him as his numbers climb, and it isn’t lost on me how ironic my joy is. Not that long ago, I hated him for using me for his own gain.
I was being judgmental when I didn’t even know him. I feel like a total asshole. I’m not usually so quick to judge.
But what do I know about him now?
I know he’s nicer than I thought. He seems to have a good heart, and he’s just trying to make ends meet any way he can. Just like me.
Of course, he probably doesn’t have a mountain of debt due to identity theft like I do, but still. Living in L.A. can’t be cheap. He mentioned having roommates during one of our video chats, and I’m sitting here in a home I own all by myself.
Yeah. Maybe Iamthe asshole.
Or, I was, at least.
I feel differently about Emerson now, but I realize I still don’tknowhim. Not as well as I should if we’re going to be believable as a couple who are engaging in some kind of romance for the ages. Most of our conversations are about videos he should make or what people are saying about the ones he’s already posted.
We need to get more personal. To really dig in and get to know each other. Otherwise, the viewers will be able to see how superficial our relationship is.
Making the decision, I grab my phone and initiate a video chat.
“Hey,” he answers, his blue eyes shining and his lips curved upward like he’s incredibly happy I called.
Electricity zips through me at his pleased expression, and there’s no denying how attractive his smile is. How attractive he is, overall.
“Hey,” I croak, then clear my throat. “You have time to talk?”
“For you? Of course,” he says, and there’s a slight grittiness in his voice that sends a shiver racing down my spine. When I don’t respond––because I’m too busy keeping my tongue from lolling out––his smile disappears. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly with a slight shake of my head. “Sorry, I zoned out there for a sec. Nothing is wrong. I just had this idea that we should get to know each other better. All we really talk about are videos, and I feel like if we’re going to fool the world, we should know more than just the basics about each other.”
I blush as I finish speaking. That was quite the mouthful, and I’m pretty sure all those words poured out without me pausing for even a single breath.
“I mean,” I say, forcing the words to come out slower, “I don’t even know where you live. I know you’re in Los Angeles, but it’s a big place that could mean anything from Beverly Hills to Buena Park.”
